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He was dead pale. Giant height, muscular strength, the life experience of a hunter who had faced the worst that this universe presented - the man opposite had no chance of feeling safe.
Lucifer Morningstar was corrosive when people exhibited horror at him, suspecting that they had sold their souls and secured their place in Hell; irritated by accusations of seduction; infuriated by lies that he was supposedly guilty of other people's choices - to kill, to rob, to frame, to betray.
It really hurt him when Chloe saw him as the Devil. Not that he wasn't, but he certainly didn't deserve her primal fear. What Sam Winchester and - Lucifer glanced to his right - his brother were experiencing now.
Here he immediately felt a connection: a thread of destiny was tied to this hunter who had suffered at the hands of his alternate version. Lucifer wondered for a brief moment if they were watching a show about him as he was about them. But no. Only there was recognition on Sam's face: thanks to the connection he realised who they had summoned. Personal Hell had come at this moment.
Maze would feel a wave of guilt flood over his already tortured soul, finishing him off. With a fleeting glance at the table, Lucifer saw the old book open and realized what had happened. In this version Castiel did not come to the rescue; to get rid of the hallucinations, the Winchesters risked to turn to magic, despite prejudice. Now they regretted that the idea had occurred to either of them.
A terrible god's mockery of this world. Lucifer did not wish to harm anyone in the room - but he would do it anyway. Leave them alone, and Sam would go mad with visions or lack of sleep; help his vessel, and more would be added to the multitude of mental traumas.
It was not his policy to help in spite of. However, he could not pass this suffering man by.
Well. The easiest option, which always worked, was quid pro quo. He had something to offer the hunters.
Lucifer covered his eyes for a moment, keeping the Devil's face from showing, and then looked around, noticing more details. A cheap motel room, hastily chosen, seemingly for lack of neighbours behind a thin wall; bags dumped in the corner, a couple of beds with thin blankets, dust, a bathroom door that wouldn't close. Not Hell, but in another world on Earth there was a Lux waiting for him, not a bug-infested place.
The salt and the devil's trap were no hindrance, neither was the gun pointed at him. He stepped regretfully over the line on the floor, feeling the bullets bounce off him, ruining his shirt; made the boards crack, and the fire that rose from the holy oil became useless; glimpsed the ceiling, looking for a trap, but the hunters seemed to have found no other way to hold their guest. Their heartbeat was deafening, and for a moment he was ready to forget his desire to help, but - paradoxically - it would hurt them even more.
The universe was a crooked mirror on his: in his world he helped people, and how they disposed of his gifts was up to them alone. Here, Lucifer remembered, there had been a couple of occasions when the things had shown sympathy, or at least not hurt, but no mercy was expected of him, and those who had come between unsuspecting humans and evil would never have believed him.
Linda Martin said repeatedly that she did not work without a patient request, he always supported her point of view, but the Detective could not pass over indifferently, tried to help out of trouble, and she probably would have supported his endeavour, and then... Winners are not judged. Lucifer'll help, because there was no one else to do it.
"It seems you need a deal with me?" he smiled at them. The hunters shuddered synchronously, Sam convulsively dug his fingers into the palm of his hand, disturbing the wound, his back twitched as if from an invisible blow. Another torture hallucination, which, Lucifer was sure, whispered promises of eternal torment.
"You need to get out of here," Dean snapped hoarsely and clenched his jaw when he looked in his direction, but stubbornly did not lower his gaze. An expression flashed across his face, as if he was praying (to whom is known), but immediately changed to doom.
"No," Lucifer shook his head, feeling guilty. "If you took a chance and used an unknown spell, you really needed it. So please," he nodded his head toward the bed, stepping aside to let Sam pass, and he staggered dolefully back to his seat as if he'd seen a vat of boiling tar or a blazing fire. Dean collapsed into the chair, gripping the armrests frantically as the rope wrapped, not tightly, but tightly, with no chance of release. There was anger on his face, but the pounding of his heart betrayed boundless fear.
"The book says 'eliminate the like by the like'," Lucifer sat down in another chair, diligently baffling the hunters. "Did you know it is a principle of homeopathy? I always thought they were charlatans; those who knew they were lying came to me because they made money from deception, but now they would be right. Don't listen to him," he turned to Sam, touching his shoulder, wanting to draw his attention to himself, but he held his breath and shrank back, unconsciously pulling his head back into his shoulders. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple.
Belatedly Lucifer remembered the demons repeatedly throwing them against the walls, the way his bloody Cage had done anything to anyone who didn't deserve it, tortured the man with the kindest, most sensitive, fearless heart - and jerked his hand away as if scalded by hellfire.
For a brief moment a vague desire ignited within him, probably impelled by connection - or common sense - to grab him and his brother and drag them off without asking, to an alien world where God was not famous for fatherly love, but at least all the problems were caused by people these two could cope with. It might have been against his principles, but it was the right thing to do. Non-gods would never agree with each other, and it was in his power to give a second life, like thousands of people before them.
- Fine. Better tell me, what do you want? - He was prepared for the compulsion to fail, but Sam's gaze grew unfocused, and the hunter floated, despite Dean's protests. The exhausted body, exhausted in its reserves, couldn't fight back, and that added to the reason for Lucifer's rage.
"I want this to be over," the answer came out of his mouth easily, followed by a second pause, "You won't hurt Dean."
He wanted to grow wings to shelter the tormented man, but they would blind the Winchesters, and Lucifer felt powerless. In his world a human had been created too for him personally, which had infuriated him repeatedly, except that Chloe had been given spell resistance so that the Detective would make her own choices, while this man had been "rewarded" with stamina without any protection whatsoever.
He needed to calm down. A bloody stare would not have helped the cause and made things worse for an already bad case.
Sam blinked out of the haze, realized what he'd said, and closed his eyes doomfully.
"I can grant you your wish," Lucifer began. "Your brother will go, and my demons will never touch him. Even if the Earth burns, he won't be touched. I know you don't believe it, but I never lie..."
"I know," Sam grinned weakly. His intonation was distinctly painful. "You - the other you - said you'd never lie to me. That I would become the "boy king of Hell" and share the throne with you. Are you going to offer me again?"
"No. I'm not sharing the throne, and I don't want your brother," he continued nonchalantly. The inflamed eyes of his vessel stared out steadily, trying to catch the hint of a lie. "Let me into the mind, and it will all be over.
Sam shook his head desperately. Dean spoke instead:
"Be over of what, the existence of Earth and humanity? And the current meat suit is coming to an end, so you need to jump into the true vessel soon?"
He was sorry to press on, but there was nothing more Lucifer could do.
"Do you think I'll leave Earth alone by being here?" he shied away from answering. Damn the connection, tending to comfort a man Lucifer didn't even know personally. The Detective was waiting for him while here he was trying to overcome his compulsions. ""Let's get this over with. Your consent in exchange for Dean's immunity, isn't that a good deal?
They squinted at each other, talking over silently. The Devil had presented them with an incredibly difficult choice: humanity or brother. Lucifer knew what they would choose, that they had always chosen after their experiences, but he was only partially relieved. He didn't want to condemn them to another fit of guilt.
Sam answered first.
"I'll tell you yes, but you have to let us say goodbye."
"No, no, no," Lucifer couldn't help himself and rose from his chair. He would show his worst side, but he wouldn't give them time to imagine that they would never meet. That would be too cruel. "Let us not delay. Is this really the way to say goodbye at last?"
He deliberately didn't touch, though he was irresistibly drawn to comfort; physical contact meant a lot to him, but not to them. And the bond never helped, not after torture. How could it have been created between a man and a fallen angel with completely dissimilar morals? Cruel conception, careless of one's own creations. Lucifer wasn't a father, but at least he didn't hurt people just for fun, so he was angry at the alternative version of himself, at god and felt disgust at the local laws of the universe. How much pleasure he had had talking to all kinds of creatures, how many stories he had heard, how many pleasant moments were stored in his memory - and how much harm was done to those who didn't deserve it...
Nothing. The past could not be undone, but the human could still be saved.
Sam's eyes widened in surprise when, having given his consent, he noticed guilty with relief instead of the expected jubilation. Lucifer leaned back in his chair, making sure his own body didn't fall over, took one last look around the room, at the hunters, and ducked into the abyss.
***
Everything inside was burning. It was terribly crowded: Lucifer was not used to sharing his body with someone inside. The man cowered in the recesses of his mind, a cacophony of eerie noises mixed with modern songs, crazy screams, flames blazing at every turn. Even in Hell, demons didn't stun sinners around the clock. Lucifer looked around hurriedly, noticing the huge crack in the top of his brain, but he had to take care of Sam first.
He spread his wings - it was safe to do so inside a human - and finally wrapped them around him, covering his soul, which shrank at the touch. Nothing. There will be no barriers to help now.
"I'll fix it now," Lucifer promised. "Everything will be all right.
Was it just an impression, or did the soul twitch, unconsciously reach out in response?
He took a long time to mend the crack: its edges were reluctant, reluctant to close, but they gave way little by little. The fire burned less and less. The howls at the end intensified in a last-ditch effort to hurt and immediately subsided, as if the hallucinations hadn't plagued him for months. It was still crowded, but it became many times easier.
Just to be sure, Lucifer created a second layer to cover the rift in mind and returned. Sam stared at him disbelievingly and - a small victory - didn't try to attack, was willing to listen rather than resist out of the last of his strength.
From far away, outside, Dean was calling out to him, tiredly, hopelessly, almost silently.
"You remember what happened that year," Lucifer didn't want to retract his wings until Sam leaned tiredly against them. "I can erase the memory if you want."
"No," he shook his head. There was a sound of gratitude and apprehension in his voice at the same time. "I got over it; it's not the worst memory. Better... shall we talk outside?"
Lucifer smiled mirthlessly and nodded. Despite the help, trust was still out of the question; expected, but sadly. The next second he was in his own body. The soul that wasn't there warmed up because of Sam's astonished eyes, not expecting to have to fight or try to trick the devil. But the amazement was quickly replaced by doom.
"Am I going back to Hell now, just yours?" He asked bluntly, taking by surprise. Dad knows what was going on in his mind, trying to find the reasons why Lucifer had provided invaluable assistance. Poor, poor boy.
"Why?"
"I'm going back there anyway because of my sins."
Lucifer, Linda Martin sees, wanted to keep quiet and not have a psychotherapy session, but he couldn't help himself.
"I wonder how can you be so sure?"
"I've been wrong," Sam shrugged and looked away, "so many times, others have paid the price for my mistakes. I'm not going to Heaven, you know."
The mind of his vessel was in such disarray that Lucifer couldn't help but give in to the connection again.
"So you're saying that other hunters would have handled this better than you? Or that you would have uncovered Heaven and Hell's plan for the Apocalypse? I don't agree at all with the covenants and priests, they forbid all the fun stuff, but I want to remind you that one of the deadly sins is hubris."
"I suppose foolishness."
"Oh, it's not a sin, believe me. Although in my world you would go to Hell, because you torment yourself in life, and you would hardly notice anything new. You're doing great, most demons would seem like novices compared to you. Well, if you think I haven't held up my end of the bargain, then I'm willing to take you with me, and then it's definitely over for you - here," Lucifer added sneeringly. "Agree?"
It was so satisfying to see the stretched faces, to know that it had succeeded to help, against stubbornness, his own principle and the god of this universe. He could have done more: he could have made this man's life easier by taking him away - but free will always came first. Paradoxically, it would have united them if the Hunters and Lucifer had lived in his universe. But alas...
It was time to leave.
He leaned over Sam, pressing supernaturally gently against the bed and pulling the blanket out, snuggling up, ignoring Dean's next indignant exclamation. They needed the rest they had been deprived of for far too long, but it was naive to hope that they would give themselves a break. Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise when Sam didn't deviate from his arm, didn't try to interrupt, letting himself be sedated. Whether human believed or resigned, he didn't know, but he hoped the sleep would be sound and serene.
There was a deafening silence in the room for a moment.
"What did you do to him?" Dean asked the question firmly. The rope on his arms shifted a little, and Lucifer grimaced guiltily at the sight of the bruises on his wrists.
"Nothing," he answered, absently pulling the blanket off the other bed. "Sam needs his rest, so excuse me, but I know if I leave, you'll wake him up and drag him away, so I'll put you to sleep, too."
"Wait, are you taking care of him?" Dean grinned, adding sarcastically, "Sorry I don't believe it, but, you know, you're the devil."
Lucifer shrugged.
"I know and I don't expect you to believe it. You'll see later, when you wake up, that he's okay," he stepped toward the chair, and Dean froze, clenching his fists.
"Wait," he licked his dry lips fleetingly, trying to think of something. "If you say you're a good guy, at least leave me sleeping."
"Yes, your world isn't safe at all," Lucifer nodded and made a new decision. "So I'll stay the night, work as a dream catcher.
Listening to no further objections, he placed his fingers on Dean's forehead, picked up the body as the rope vanished into thin air, carefully placed it on the bed, put a blanket over him and glanced back at Sam. Both were sleeping like dead men, wet with sweat, exhausted and tired, but the worst was behind them. Looking at them, Lucifer felt as satisfied as if the case had been solved. After all, the unplanned passage to the other universe had been worth it.
He shut the windows tightly, sat down at his desk, reached for the spell book, opened the first page. There was a long night ahead, and he wanted to read it all, and then remember to retell the Detective or her Little Parasite some spooky-interesting chapter, complete with the ending about evil getting what it deserved and good triumphing. They'll enjoy it.